Obsession: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (The Mate Games #1)(79)

As soon as my sight was taken from me, I was instantly more aware of every other sense. But more than anything, I was aware of how close to the edge I already was. One well-aimed breath on my clit would probably do it. Hell, the scrape of Caleb’s scruff over my breasts would get the job done. Every nerve ending in my body screamed for him to get out of that godforsaken box and come fuck me. It was my fantasy, after all. Why did I have to be such a cockblocker?

“Touch yourself, Sunday. Bring me to worship at the altar I can’t have.”

This command I obeyed without question, my hand slipping eagerly between my spread legs. I rolled my finger over my clit, my breath hitching, hips kicking as sensation exploded across my pussy. I was already so on edge, I was sure I’d be coming hard and fast if I kept this up.

“Don’t you dare come without my permission.”

It must have been the blindfold, but his voice sounded closer. Like it was right beside my ear. Were those footsteps? Alarm shot through me, and I moved to sit up. But then his scent, incense and spice, washed over me, giving me everything I craved and pushing aside my worry. It was then I remembered the room was designed to give me what I want . . . what I need.

“Don’t worry, a stor. This will be our little secret. What happens within these walls is ours alone. No one will ever know.”

“Caleb,” I moaned, giving myself fully over to the fantasy. “I need you to touch me.”

His groan was tortured, as if he was a man on the brink of losing control.

“Please,” I begged.

“I don’t have the strength to deny you any longer, Sunday. God help me, but I can’t stop myself. Not now.”

I tensed with expectant need. Waiting for the feel of his hand on my bare skin. When the touch came, it wasn’t between my thighs or over my chest as I expected. No, it was the barest brush of his fingertips on the inside of my knee. Innocent . . . except that it was absolutely forbidden. Which made it so fucking perfect.

“Make yourself come,” he gritted out. The sounds of a belt unbuckling and his zipper lowering were unmistakable in the silent room.

I pictured him sliding his palm over his long, rigid cock. The feel of it against my skin when he’d spanked me was a memory I'd never forget.

“Sunday,” he scolded. “You’re not listening.”

“I want you to come too.”

“Oh, fuck. You must be part succubus. That’s the only explanation for why I want you so badly.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Padre. As long as I get to hear what it sounds like when you shoot your cum all over me, I don’t care.”

“Sunday. You’re going to be the fecking death of me.”

Our breaths mingled, the harsh pants fueling the furious pace of my fingers over my clit. He gripped my knee harder, not touching me beyond that one small spot, but I was burning for this man.

The tension in his fingers laced with his tight breaths told me he was close. So was I. “Caleb,” I moaned. “Please.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Who asked you to? Come for me, Caleb.”

He grunted, his fingers digging into my skin as he gasped and ropes of his release spilled across my hand and lower belly. “Holy hell, Sunday. What have you done to me?”

I smiled and continued chasing my own climax, using his orgasm as my lubrication. The feel of his slick spend touching my clit sent me over the edge, and I cried out, back arching, intense pleasure spreading through me in an explosion of sensation. My damn toes curled.

I came down, panting, heart racing, my fingers still rubbing his cum into my skin. But I could tell things had shifted the moment I came. No longer did the scent of him linger in the air.

I opened my eyes, the blindfold gone, the room back to normal. I lay naked on the bed, thighs wet from my own orgasm, but no evidence of Caleb existed. Not even the release he’d spilled across me. Except for the bruises on my thigh in the shape of fingers. I must’ve been so deep in my desires I had been gripping my own knee in hopes of making it feel real.

Wow, what a fantasy. This room was more than I’d given it credit for.

My gaze flicked to the window where my shadow man usually stood. I half expected to see the confessional screen in place of the frosted pane. The space was empty. Nothing more than dark glass.

The sound of the door opening had me snapping my head to the side. Noah’s heated gaze roamed over my body, his lips lifting with amusement. “You got started without me, I see.”

I blushed, hoping if he had an inkling of what my fantasy had been he wouldn’t be jealous. “It said drink me. I drank it.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I had intended for us to share in your fantasy, but I suppose as long as you’re ready for more, I can adjust the schedule.”

“There’s a schedule?” I said it with a British accent just to tease him.

“There was. I’d planned to make up for everything Callie caused by proving to you no matter who I attended the ball with, my heart was yours.”

“Well, we have all night, don’t we?”

“Yes, we absolutely do.” Then his amber eyes darkened with promise, and his fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Guess that means I’m just in time for round two.”